


Distraction

by WondersoftheMultiverse



Category: The Great (TV 2020)
Genre: Count Orlo - Freeform, F/M, Orlo reading to the MC, Probably edging towards one of the fluffiest things I have written, Reader Insert, hulu's the great, super fluff, the great, with a touch of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27723191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WondersoftheMultiverse/pseuds/WondersoftheMultiverse
Summary: Your knuckles rapped across the thick wooden door to Orlo’s quarters impatiently, your foot tapping an out of sync tune as you glanced up and down the empty hallway. Your breaths lingered in the air, your sharp inhales echoing off the barren walls for all to hear. Whispers ran through your head like a wild bear chasing down its meal, adrenaline rushing through your system as the dark thoughts that had plagued you throughout the day threatened to overwhelm your defences. The cold bitter winter wind whipped through the palace like a menacing ghost, its tendrils catching the nearby candles and causing the flames to flicker; sending the shadows dancing across the walls in an ominous fashion.The soft padding of feet captured your attention as the locked door before you released a soft click, the wooden barricade parting to reveal a slightly dishevelled Count Orlo.“Y/N?” He questioned, his voice groggy with sleep as he pulled the door open wider.
Relationships: Count Orlo / Reader, Count Orlo x Reader, Orlo / Reader, Orlo x Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	Distraction

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this when I should have been sleeping, in 1 night with no proof reading. This is literally a quick rough piece thrown together from our watchalong inspo!  
> I also tried toying with Orlo’s characterisation a bit here- the rewatch has made me question things… so apologies if it doesnt come completely across! Im practicing! Also its a fluffy fic so… huzzah!

**Distraction**

Your knuckles rapped across the thick wooden door to Orlo’s quarters impatiently, your foot tapping an out of sync tune as you glanced up and down the empty hallway. Your breaths lingered in the air, your sharp inhales echoing off the barren walls for all to hear. Whispers ran through your head like a wild bear chasing down its meal, adrenaline rushing through your system as the dark thoughts that had plagued you throughout the day threatened to overwhelm your defences. The cold bitter winter wind whipped through the palace like a menacing ghost, its tendrils catching the nearby candles and causing the flames to flicker; sending the shadows dancing across the walls in an ominous fashion.

The soft padding of feet captured your attention as the locked door before you released a soft click, the wooden barricade parting to reveal a slightly dishevelled Count Orlo. 

“Y/N?” He questioned, his voice groggy with sleep as he pulled the door open wider. 

Tears sprung to your eyes as you wiped the back of your hand across your sweat ridden forehead, your foot still tapping an irregular beat as you shifted nervously on the spot. Your out of place attitude seemed to capture the Count’s attention entirely, his eyes widening as he stepped aside and gestured for you to enter.

Accepting his offer with a curt nod, you dove into his apartments without another word, your tongue locked into place between your teeth as you exhaled shakily. Hands clasping at eachother, your fingers quickly became nestled amongst themselves, your touch careful to avoid the fresh wound from your torture inflicted earlier that day. 

It had been a horrid week, marked to be even worse by the cruel events of the day. All members of the court and serfs alike had been hoarded into one room and forced to undergo a series of trials to prove their dedication to the Emperor. The memories were still so vivid within your head, so much so that you could still feel the chilling touch of fear as it wrapped its way around your heart.

“Are you alright?”

Your eyes snapped from their distant stare across the room to Orlo’s form, tearing his appearance down brick by brick as you tried to read the emotions that flickered across his features. Leaning backwards, Orlo closed the door behind him softly, his fingers flicking the key in the lock before slowly padding forwards as to close the distance between you.

He was dressed for bed, his hair released from its usual tie and thrown halfway into a mens night cap. Black tendrils trailed down from the white cloth and nestled against the edges of his face, accentuating the curve of his jaw and dark sparkle in his eyes. The usual waistcoat and coat he wore had been replaced by a luxurious silk robe, its surface shimmering with green and black hues as the warm glow of his fireplace bounced off its surface.

“I…” You began, your voice weak as your eyes darted across your surroundings. 

Orlo’s room was one that you had visited on more than one occasion, but almost every time it had been with a purpose, usually the conveying of a secret message from another member of the coup. You had served him once as well, so long ago now you doubted he even remembered your clumsy walk and rusty posture. Standing in his rooms now, you could get a sense as to why he preferred to remain squirreled away from the bustle of the court rooms, for his quarters were a cove of treasures and secrets, its walls filled with the literature of greats and decorated with odd yet fascinating trinkets from across Europe. 

Orlo cleared his throat lightly as to capture your attention once more, your head snapping back to meet him as you jumped in place. His body was mere inches away from your own now, his approach as silent as a trained assassin. You should have taken comfort in the gaze he cast you over with, in the proximity you both held. But instead a rolling sense of dread settled in your abdomen, your eyes widening as you realised just where you were.

You had awoken with a scream as your nightmares chased you back into reality, your body writhing in the small wooden cot as you rolled out of it and crashed to the cold stone floor. The pain from having your fingernail yanked free, of having your back lashed with the coarse leather whips and the ache of your shoulder from where the brick had cracked into your body left you haunted at every moment, chasing you into your dreams and twisting your mind. Your cries had roused the two other serfs that shared your occupants, their groans of displeasure loud and mocking. Everything past that had been a blur, your movements fuelled by the fast pumping of your heart and the twisting shadows which morphed into the echoes of your torturers. 

“I shouldn’t be here.” You stuttered as you watched his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“I should never have come.” You reiterated once more, your hands unravelling from themselves as you moved towards the door, “I’m sorry-”

“Wait.” Orlo commanded, his hand gently wrapping around your wrist as he ceased your movements entirely. 

Tilting his head, you felt your heart skip a beat as he regarded you with those wide eyes, their surfaces soft and shining in the light. Without his glasses you could appreciate the windows into his soul with more passion than before, his beauty undeniable to you and those around him. 

Orlo’s fingers trailed your skin as he turned your hand over in his palm, his eyes flickering to the missing nail. With a heavy sigh, he pulled you over towards a small chaise beside his stone fireplace.

“Wait here.” He ordered again, his voice less croaky and more stern in its command. 

Nodding your head mutely, you stared into the roaring flames before you, your soul floating far from your body. This would be the first trial that tests your blossoming friendship with the count, your skin crawling with anxiety as you considered the possible ramifications from your late night visit. Although you trusted Orlo, so much so that you would be willing to put your life in his hands, you had never broached the topic of your social standing nor the new relationship that had formed from your acquaintances. Deep down you hoped that what had formed from the scheming of Peter’s downfall would remain well into the future, but you could never be sure as to what he felt in return.

A hiss slipped from your lips as a sharp pressure was forced down upon your ring finger, Orlo’s hands tightening over your wound as he carefully wrapped the digit with a fresh clean cloth. Your cheeks flushed with heat as you noted his proximity to you, the chaise lounge shifting under his weight as he shuffled into you further.

In your daze you had barely noticed him return with a fresh bandage, your mind suspended in a torrent of raging thoughts. Closing your eyes you willed away the tears which threatened to spill, your teeth biting down into your lip.

You would not get much sleep tonight.

The silence lingered between you both as Orlo finished tying up the small bandage around your finger, his skin lingering against your own as the heat of his breath fanned across your face. Inside of you a fire flickered to light, your heart clenching in your chest as your thoughts threatened to wander further than the boundaries you had tried to establish.

“I’m sorry.” You declared, your eyes fluttering open as you turned to meet his prying gaze. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t.” Orlo replied casually, his head gesturing towards his undisturbed bed which remained tucked into the far wall. “I doubt many are sleeping soundly after today.”

You hummed in agreement, the scars still too fresh for you to address them. 

“Except maybe Peter.” You whispered, your eyes blurring once more to the tears that welled within them. With your free hand you swiped away at your eyes, feigning an awkward eyelash to hide your crumbling resolve. 

“The _fucker_.”Orlo added with disdain, his eyes mouth twitching into a half-hearted smile. 

You felt the corners of your own turn up in an attempt to mirror his own, your lip trembling however as your cards fell to the table for all to see.

“The fucker…” You repeated, your head whipping away abruptly as a tear crawled down your cheek. 

“What has happened?” Orlo pried, his touch on your hand falling away and replaced by a firm and comforting weight on your shoulder. Pulling slightly, the Count eased you round to face him, the remnants of your tears glowing in the warm light of the fire.

“S’just a nightmare.” You murmured, a hiccup jolting you as you leaned back against the soft cushions once more. Glancing down at your undergown and skirt, you played with the fraying edges, a vain attempt at avoiding his all knowing eyes that could read you like a book. “It’s probably the last thing you need.”

“Actually, I appreciate the company.” Orlo sighed, his hand releasing from your shoulder as he pulled away his nightcap; his mess of dark hair falling free across his shoulders.

“It has been a long day.” He added, “I meant to find you earlier, but after everything that happened I had assumed you wanted space.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you tilted your head towards him. He was staring into the same fire as you had been earlier, his hands braced across his lap as he leaned back against the chaise. His body was pressed impossibly close to your own, your shoulders and hips touching, sharing the warmth of your bodies through the thing under garments you both wore. His presence brought you a comforting sense, wave upon wave of warmth filling you entirely, settling your nerves and quelling your spiralling thoughts. 

“I know my ordeal was not hard but-” Orlo cleared his throat as he nervously glanced across to you, gazes interlocking you held your breath. “The fear of exposure, watching you get tortured like that and being powerless to do anything…”

Orlo shook his head as he forced the dark depriving thoughts from his own head, silencing his words in an instance.

“It doesn’t do us good to dwell on the past.”

“I know.” You echoed, your skin erupting with goosebumps as your state of undress became clear. “Yet my dreams seem intent on making me relive it.”

“The nightmare?”

You nodded in clarification, your chest heaving as you rolled your head back to stare up towards the ceiling. 

“Distraction.” Orlo declared, his voice breathy as he shifted in his seat towards you. “Distractions are the only way that we make this fucking dire situation better.”

Climbing from his lounged position against the chaise, you watched perplexed as the Count rushed around the side of the lounge and back towards his bed. The silk robe he wore flurried in the breeze of his movements, his feet thumping against the exposed wooden floor as he crossed the room in record time. Swooping across his sheets, Orlo turned and rushed back to the chaise, his body deflating into the cushions with a sigh.

You had been about to question his sudden rush of inspiration when he thrust a small leather bound book into your hands. You cooed in appreciation of the perfectly bound volume before you, your hands running across the cover as you traced the golden letters that had been stamped into its surface. The brown leather was in perfect condition, its spine barely creased or bent from the usual wear and tear you were used to seeing.

“It is my guilty pleasure.” Orlo declared with a bright grin and a breathy laugh, “I-uh- I had it translated from English to Russian.”

You smiled at the excitement that bubbled forth from him, the air that hung between you becoming charged with potential as you readjusted your positioning on the chaise. 

“What is it about?”

“It is about an explorer called Lemuel Gulliver and a series of adventures.” He enthused, “Truly a remarkable piece of literature, I often catch myself wandering away from the palace to join him. In my-uh- mind of course.”

“I’m surprised it is not about philosophy.”

“I am a man of many tastes.” Orlo conceded, a hearty chuckle rumbling from the back of his throat.

You laughed as you shook your head slowly, your hands brushing across the book once more before handing back to Orlo.

“It sounds perfect.”

“You should borrow it!” Orlo exclaimed brightly, his hands raised as he pushed it back towards yourself. “It will help you-” 

He paused, eager to avoid the dark subject of which you both had barely escaped the first time. Swaying his hand side to side, Orlo instead alluded to the topic at hand.

“-distract yourself from-uh- things.” He finished with the eloquence of a floundering fish.

Your heart burst with the sweet gesture of which Orlo was providing you, the cold shadows of fear chased away by the warmth of his care for your wellbeing. It was a kind thought, but also one that further highlighted the chasm which separated you both as individuals. The sheer difference in your upbringings that would likely be the divider that keeps you separated from becoming more for years to come, it was a bitter thought but one that could not be denied no matter how hard you tried. 

“I would love to Orlo but…” You broke off, your cheeks flushing red as guilt washed through you at the sight of his bright features crumbling away. “I…”

You cleared your throat.

“I can’t read.” 

Orlo’s mouth dropped open into a little gasp of understanding, his head slowly nodding as the thought seemed to dawn on him as well. 

“Of course…” Orlo uttered, “I should have- uh…” 

Accepting the book from your hands, Orlo held it close to his chest, his eyes wandering across your features as he seemed to consider his next words carefully.

“What-” He stammered, his old characteristic nervousness seemingly rearing its old head and getting the better of him. “What if I read to you? That is if you wanted me to. You’re more than welcome to stay for a while? It could help with the-”

“Orlo.” You interrupted, saving him from his downward spiral. 

“Sorry.” He apologised, his eyes fluttering closed as he took a calming breath. “What I meant to say is I could read to you? It may help with the nightmare to be thinking about something else.”

You tilted your head in consideration, your finger pressed to your lips in thought. Sensing your hesitation, Orlo raised his finger to make an additional point.

“It is a fantastic piece of writing.”

A smile wormed its way onto your lips as you considered his proposal. Although it would be a welcomed distraction from the cold dark thoughts which seemed eager to return into the forefront of your mind, you couldn’t help but feel as though you were overstaying your welcome within his quarters, your presence not truly wanted. But those rogue thoughts were cast aside the moment your gaze met his own, the concerned and caring look he carried lifting your soul and propelling you forwards to say yes. It wasn’t often that you gathered the spare time to sit by his side and listen to his mellow voice ring through the air, his presence relaxing you in ways you were yet to understand.

“Fine.” You conceded, your legs tucking upwards as you settled back down into the chaise once more. “But only for a short while.”

Orlo’s face lit up like the sun itself as he bounced with a short bob of excitement, his back pressing back into the chaise as he opened up the book between you. Licking the pad of his finger, he curled his way through the pages until the first block of script began, the silk of his robe rustling as he shuffled his shoulders side to side in a bid to make himself more comfortable.

“What is it called anyway?” You pondered, your eyes scanning the mass of words as Orlo’s finger pressed down against the first line.

“Gulliver’s Travels.” Orlo hummed, his finger tracing the words as he spoke them. “Ready?”

You hummed softly, your head pressing against your hand as you watched his finger start to crawl across the page.

“Part one, a voyage to Lilliput.” Orlo began, “My father had a small estate in Nottinghamshire: I was the third of five sons. He sent me to Emmanuel…”

Orlo’s voice carried your soul as you succumbed to the gentle warmth of the fire and soft mellow tones of his voice, his eyes fixed to the pages, scanning the words as he traced them with the tip of his finger. Inhaling deeply, you revelled in the familiar scent of paper and ink he carried, the throbbing pain of your injuries melting away as Orlo’s presence calmed your raging nerves. Just as quickly as you had awoken, your eyes had begun to droop with heaviness, the relaxing calm of the room catching your fading consciousness and easing you into the dark abyss which promised to be kinder to you the second time around.

Later that evening, you awoke to find your face pressed gently into the Count’s shoulder, your mouth slightly ajar as drool slipped from your lips and pressed into his silk robe. His arm had crawled behind your shoulders in a moment of confidence, cradling you against him and keeping you secure. His voice still drawled on into the night, the words and tales of Gulliver’s Travels keeping the darkness at bay. Orlo only stopped once he had reached the end of the first part, cheekily you had kept your eyes closed in a feigned state of sleep. Your body barely able to conceal the cold shiver which slipped down your spine as you felt his breath wash across your features, his body readjusting before he pressed his own head against your own.

The second time you awoke was in the early morning, your body cramped at an awkward angle perched on the edge of the small chaise, but warm and content from a full nights sleep wrapped in Orlo’s embrace. With a smile you had slowly pried yourself from his arm, your hands soft against his skin as you repositioned him back against the cushions. Grabbing a nearby throw, you pulled it across his form before regarding him with a look less associated with that of a friend.

“Thank you.” You whispered, your hands gathering your skirts as you quickly parted the room without a second glance.

If you had looked back, perhaps you would have acknowledged the feelings Orlo had developed for you sooner, as you would have caught the Count peering at your departing form from over the chaise; a similar look of affection shimmering across the surfaces of his eyes.


End file.
